


a journey via roads and zombies

by itsoddsteven



Series: trans minecraft [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Dead Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Gaslighting, Gen, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Memory Loss, Platonic Soulmates Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Suicide, Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit Friendship, Toby Smith | Tubbo Thinks TommyInnit is Dead, Trans Male Character, Trans Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsoddsteven/pseuds/itsoddsteven
Summary: Ranboo can’t remember a time before the zombie apocalypse.Tommy wants the green bitch dead.Tubbo finds himself adopted by not one, not two, but three older brothers.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot
Series: trans minecraft [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153880
Comments: 30
Kudos: 152





	1. prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur and Tubbo find themselves together at the end of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for this chapter: suicide, character death.

Wilbur Soot is a man of many songs. When his employer’s television flashes from a children’s show to the news, he finds himself absentmindedly humming the intro tune. Tubbo, the child (teenager, he’d insist) that Wilbur’s babysitting, sits on the floor, mesmerized by the TV. His father is a news reporter, so Tubbo always gets overly excited about the news. Wilbur, on the other hand, does not care for all the fear mongering and talks of a deadly virus that have been overwhelming the station lately. 

So when Wilbur hears the words “COVID-19” come out of Tubbo’s father’s mouth, he tunes it out. He thinks instead about how screwed he is if the borders shut down, considering he’s a student from out of the country. This is his first year of university, and due to COVID, he hasn’t had much of a chance to make friends yet, with the impending down around every corner. So if something were to happen to him, he would have no one to lean on. Wilbur tunes back to the TV. If he’s going to worry about the future, he may as well stay up to date on the present.

Tubbo’s father, the news reporter on screen, looks like he’s crying all of a sudden. Wilbur feels a tonal shift in the room, and he wearily reaches for the remote. There’s a gunshot, a cry from Tubbo, and a retching sound from Wilbur. Wilbur’s hand shakes as he presses the power button. He was too late, and the image of Tubbo’s dead father will forever be locked in his and Tubbo’s memory.

“Fuck,” Wilbur whispers, swallowing down harshly in order to prevent himself from throwing up.

Tubbo is situated in front of Wilbur, so Wilbur can’t see his face. The elder of the couple reaches down softly and puts a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder. He doesn’t know what to say.

“F-fuck,” Tubbo repeats, and Wilbur doesn’t have it in him to berate him for swearing. He still doesn’t turn his head, but he does look downwards to his shaking hands. “He killed himself,” he says. “He didn’t even say ‘I love you’.”

Wilbur chokes down a sob. He wants to tell this grieving kid that his father loved him, but he knows a useless platitude when he thinks of one. Instead he nods and says, “Yeah.” And that’s the last of it they talk about.

The next day the television and phone don’t work. Wilbur and Tubbo spend the day doing idle tasks and pretending the world isn’t falling apart around them. The next two days are much the same.

On the fourth day, they hear a man shouting outside the house.

The man is wearing a bucket hat, blue jeans, and he limps as he walks. He doesn’t seem like much of a threat, but Wilbur is scared nonetheless. Wilbur closes the curtains, grabs a knife from the kitchen, and tells Tubbo to be quiet. They wait for the man to walk past them, but he does not. Instead, the footsteps grow louder until they stop at the front door. Wilbur hears the jingle of the doorknob being turned. When the door doesn’t open, Wilbur breathes a sigh of relief.

“I know someone’s in there!” the man shouts through the door. “I saw the curtains close.”

Fuck. He knows there’s at least one person home. Wilbur gestures at Tubbo to hide while he steps forward closer to the door.

“I’m injured. I’m really no threat to anyone,” the man states. Wilbur rolls his eyes, he knows how the stories go. “My name’s Phil. Really, I’m harmless.”

As soon as Phil finishes speaking, Wilbur hears a click, and then the door opens. Wilbur’s on his feet in an instance, knife in hand, hand to Phil’s throat. Phil reluctantly puts his hands up, pins in his left hand, what he presumably used to open the door. 

“You don’t want to do this,” Phil says calmly.

Wilbur has only half a second to process that before a figure emerges from the bushes, gun in hand. “Stop. Put the knife down,” a pink haired man commands Wilbur.

And, well, Wilbur is motivated by threats, so he slowly brings the knife away from Phil’s neck. Phil starts to limp over to his friend.

“Drop the knife on the ground. Slowly,” the stranger commands, and so Wilbur follows suit. 

The knife drops with a subtle clang and the pink haired stranger smirks, still aiming his gun at Wilbur. “So, it’s just you here?” Wilbur slowly nods. “Cool. Give us all your medical supplies.”

“Techno!” Phil hisses, “We can’t just threaten teenagers!” Wilbur, despite his best efforts, bristles at being called a teenager. He nearly opens his mouth to protest, but Techno beats him to it.

“Sure we can,” Techno drawls, “At least, I can and you can watch.” Phil doesn’t respond, so Techno continues, “Anyways, kid, show me to your medical kit.”

Wilbur finds the medical kit from under the bathroom sink and brings it to the two men. He bites the inside of his lips and darts his eyes around, hoping that Tubbo picked a good hiding spot.

“- so kid you’re really here all alone?” Phil asks. “Where’re your parents?” He seems concerned, but Wilbur shakes the feeling away.

“I live alone,” he says, before he can think of a better lie.

“In this house? At your age?” Techno scoffs, rummaging through the medical supplies and tending to Phil’s wound.

“Um. Yes.”

Techno rolls his eyes. “Then why is this medication prescribed to Sarah Smith?” he asks, holding up the bottle in question.

“Um. I’m a drug dealer,” he says, but at the same time Tubbo pops his head out from behind the couch and exclaims, “He’s my babysitter!”

“Tubbo!” Wilbur hisses. “You were supposed to stay hidden!”

Tubbo shrugs. “I got bored. Besides, they seem nice enough.”

“One of them literally had a gun to my head!” Wilbur replies, hysterically.

“Still do,” Techno chirps, waving his gun.

Phil sighs. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wouldn’t hurt you,” he explains, “Techno is just a little protective.”

“A little?!” Wilbur feels like his life is falling apart at the seams. 

Techno has the fucking audacity to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plspsplspsl comment :pleading_face:


	2. chapter one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranboo and Dream encounter Tommy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings: transphobia, deadnaming, death

“Rachel?” Dream asks, trying to get his attention. Dream insists on calling Ranboo “Rachel” and Ranboo has long since given up on changing Dream’s mind.

“Mm?” he quietly responds, knowing that Dream doesn’t like it when he just nods. Dream likes it better when he uses his words, but humming might suffice for now.

“Incoming.”

The infected, or zombies, are slower than regular humans, so he and Dream have some time to react. Dream explained to him that as long as he doesn’t have contact with the zombies then he won’t get infected. Ranboo can’t remember a time before the zombie apocalypse. That’s not to say that zombies have been roaming the streets since he was little. The apocalypse only started around a month ago. Ranboo just has a shit memory. Thank goodness he has Dream to remind him of the important things.

Ranboo calms his mind and imagines Dream hurting him. It’s easy to imagine. He feels fearful, angry, and his fire burns inside him. A zombie approaches him, and he reaches a single finger out, flames dancing across his breathy mouth to the tip of his nail. The fire surrounds the zombie and it falls to the cold, snowy, ground.

He sneaks a peak over to Dream, who looks freakishly calm as ever. But Ranboo knows it’s a facade, and Dream is boiling over with anger, annoyance, and disappointment. Dream’s fists push and pull at the air, causing the oncoming zombies to stop breathing.

Once they finish putting the zombies at rest, Ranboo grows anxious. He tries to swallow it down, knowing that Dream will just grow more annoyed with him and do something that he might regret later. Ranboo is in a constant state of anxiety, but he feels like it’s heightened whenever Dream’s near, or focusing on him. This is hard to prove, though, since Ranboo can rarely remember glimpses of times without Dream.

“Rachel. Stop that,” Dream commands. 

And Ranboo can feel in his bones, in his fire, that Dream is more than annoyed. But still, Ranboo foolishly opens his mouth. “It’s Ranboo.”

Ranboo immediately looks downwards to his boots, but he can still feel Dream’s menacing glare on him.

“Rachel. What did I tell you about that?” 

“That I’m confused. ‘Cause of my memory,” Ranboo mumbles.

“Speak up, girl.”

Ranboo chokes down a sob at being labelled a girl. Fire swirls inside of him, like he’s eaten something rotten. He can’t stop the tears from flowing down his face. He wipes furiously with his gloves, but it doesn’t help. Dream’s noticed.

Ranboo honestly can’t seem to remember why he’s so fearful of Dream, of what he’s done to him in the past. All he knows is that his gut is telling him to run, but all he can do is stand still, paraylzed, and shut his eyes to futilely try to stop the tears. He knows Dream hates tears. Dream hates his tears. Dream hates and hates and hates and -

“Hey big man!” a voice shocks Ranboo out of his stupor. “You feeling alright?” Ranboo blinks, opening his eyes, and looks slightly upwards, head still bowed. There’s a mitted hand hanging out in front of him. “I’m Tommy.”

Dream slaps Tommy’s hand away from Ranboo possessively. Both hands leave Ranboo’s vision and Ranboo looks up at the shocked faces of the two individuals. 

Ranboo knows immediately what happened. A whirlwind of feelings surround his flame. Dream’s feeling’s towards Tommy, mainly negative ones, and some of Tommy’s feelings slip in.

“You’re soulmates with Dream too?” Ranboo asks.

Tommy bristles. “Like I’d be soulmates with a bastard. You’re soulmates with the bitch who caused your panic attack?”

“Um,” Ranboo says, because he knows Dream doesn’t like it when he doesn’t respond. But Tommy’s not Dream, maybe there are different rules.

“Obviously,” Dream says, rolling his eyes. He takes a step forward and puts a frigid arm around Ranboo’s shoulder. “We can’t choose our soulmates. Or else I would’ve stopped with Rachel.”

Tommy glares at Dream’s hand on Ranboo’s shoulder. “He told you already. His name is Ranboo.”

Dream tugs to pull Ranboo closer, and Ranboo lets it happen, going limp like a ragdoll. “Yeah? And what are you going to do about it?”

Tommy puts his right hand into his coat and pulls out an honest-to-god gun. He’s so incredibly fast that Ranboo doesn’t register that Tommy has taken the shot until Dream’s hand slips off Ranboo’s shoulder. Dream falls to the ground, red staining the snow around him.

Dream’s emotions are gone from Ranboo’s flame. He feels oddly empty inside. Like a part of him has been broken. Or amputated. But Ranboo knows that sometimes one has to amputate a limb to prevent the infection from spreading, and maybe that’s what Dream was. One day his emotions will be his own again.

Tommy smirks at the corpse, putting his gun away. “That’s what I’m gonna do about it.” He turns back to Ranboo, letting a soft smile fall on his face. “Let’s start this over. I’m Tommy,” he says, holding out his hand.

Ranboo shakes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE :clap: GREEN :clap: BITCH :clap: IS :clap: DEAD!


End file.
